Page 7

7

Kroaicho

I shuffle from one foot to the one of the others, in a square pattern, my claws scraping against the rough stone, and I can't help but stare at the green-haired, green-eyed creature I impulsively brought back with me. Why did I do this? What part of my mind thought this was a good idea?

My mind supplies the answer with an image of the green lava gemstone the genali destroyed. The shifting colors of the creature’s long green hair are just as mesmerizing. Zha must have a story, I know it.

But is it worth the trouble?

Zha reeks of that smell… not quite the same, but now I realize part of the same species. It was the other one’s smell that drew me in, but it is this one that I chose. Zha came from the wrecked silver container I desired, which is no longer worthy of my hoard after I had to create a tunnel to divert it to me.

Instead I have this oddly signaling creature. Green? At a time like this?

The creature—zha—sits there, staring at the ground, carving strange marks into the dust with delicate fingers. Zha is small and fragile, especially in comparison to me, and yet, as I look at zha, I can't help but curse my own poor impulse control. Of all the reckless decisions I've made—topping even my foolish treasure-hunting expeditions up Mt. Rev'ercha—this one stands out.

I curse again, clicking my tongue against my tusks. What was I thinking? At the time, my only thought had been to steal the little thing away, putting distance between zha and the other one zha had been with. But now that I have zha here, alone, away from the other creature… I am faced with a glaring question.

What do I do with zha?

I consider the possibility of killing zha. It would be the simplest solution. I'd never have to worry about what to do next, about the complications zha brings. But as soon as the thought enters my mind, something ugly twists in my chest—a bitterness, a root that digs deep and snarls, making me feel sick. I discard the idea immediately. No. I won't kill zha.

Instead, I shoot a furtive glance at the diminutive creature. Zha is still busy with the dusty floor, zha's hands moving in patterns that I can't make sense of.

It is what zha started doing after zha realized trying to escape me was futile. The screaming stopped and zha froze in place for a long moment, then dropped to the ground and started… drawing.

What an odd creature.

I should be looking at what zha is drawing, trying to decipher any meaning from it, but my gaze is more intent on zha instead. There's something… compelling about zha. Something that makes me want to keep looking, to understand.

The question that lingers in my mind, though, is the one that won't leave me alone: Why is there so much green?

I tilt my head, my bone-ridged brows knitting together as I give the creature a more appraising look. Green hair, green eyes… is zha that desperate for a zhannel? It makes no sense. How does zha intend to cater to a zhannel without so much as a hoard of treasure?

It's insanity , I think. Complete and utter insanity.

I should stop staring. I need to act. But what should I do? Zha is here now, and I need to make a decision. I decide it would be best to put zha deep in the cave, where zha can serve as the start of a new personal hoard. After all, I must admit, zha is beautiful—easily the best of anything I've ever hoarded. The thought sends a twinge of… something through me, a warm sensation that makes me feel embarrassed, my skin lighting up in brighter shades of blue.

I take a step closer, my feet dragging across the dusty cave floor, and suddenly I'm aware of how tusk-tied I feel. Why is this so difficult? Zha is just another addition to my hoard, and yet I'm struggling to find the right words. What does one say in a situation like this?

I realize, with a growing sense of anxiety, that I have no idea how to interact with zha. My species, the zhasie, are direct, and straightforward. But this creature… At first I thought the vivid green of zha's hair must mean zha is signaling for a mate, though of course I should have known better. I have met plenty of species that do not signal like a zhasie.

What is it about this creature that has me so confounded? The sounds coming from zha's mouth don't match. They're high-pitched, like a shriek, and they sound… annoyed. Not seeking or entreating.

I don't understand. I don't understand any of this. I take another step back, feeling overwhelmed by the confusion and the conflicting signals. Should I just put zha to sleep with a quick burst of gas from my sacs? That would at least give me some time to think. But I hesitate.

No, no. That would be too easy. Too cowardly. I can't resort to that. Not yet.

Instead, I turn and retreat farther into the cave, away from memories of the creature's high-pitched tirade. I’ve almost heard enough of the language to make sense of it.

Zha's mumbling voice follows me, but it fades as I move deeper into the shadows. I press my back against the cool stone and take a deep breath, trying to calm myself. What am I supposed to do now? This is not how I imagined this going.

I only wanted the silver container. It would have been an excellent start. Not this.

Not this.

I peer around the edge of the rock, watching zha from a distance. Zha is still going, that strange little mouth moving and moving. The color of my skin shifts to a dark purple, a sign of my irritation. Why is zha like this? What does zha want from me? I've given zha space, I've brought zha somewhere safe—shouldn't zha be grateful?

I don't know why I expected that.

I would not be grateful.

I rattle my head, the tips of my head spikes drooping slightly. I've heard of creatures like this, ones that don't follow any logic I understand. Maybe I'm the one who's missing an important signal. Maybe there's something I'm not seeing.

I take a cautious step forward, my eyes narrowing as I try to make sense of zha's words. Zha's language is strange—there's no easy translation just yet, but I think I have enough words to be understood.

I pick up on the tone. Zha is… not pleased. I force myself to speak, even though my mouth feels dry. "You not want here?"

The creature pauses, looking up at me with those bright green eyes. There's a flicker of surprise there, I think, but then zha scowls. "Not want? What does that even mean ? You took me! You took me away from Rin !"

I can't understand half of what zha is saying, but I pick up on the tone, the anger. My skin shifts to a deeper shade of purple. "Zha… bad," I say, trying to convey my meaning with a growl. How much I don’t want the green one to return to the white one. "Not… safe."

"Not safe?" zha echoes, the words sharp. "You think you're safe? You think this is safe?"

I feel a flash of white—an amused glimmer along my skin—but it fades quickly. No, zha doesn't understand. I need to explain it better. "Here," I gesture to the cave around us, "better than… outside. Better than… zha."

Zha's eyes narrow. "So, what, you're keeping me as… what? A pet? A prisoner ?"

The words don't translate well, but I think I understand. I rattle my head, frustrated. I need more of the language’s words and I’m not gaining them fast enough to be persuasive. "Not pet. You… hoard. Mine. Keep hoard safe."

For a moment, there's silence. Then zha bursts into a sound I quickly realize is laughter—a sound so unexpected that it sends a shock through me. It’s low, just like the rest of zha’s language, but the cadence is the same. I stiffen, my skin flashing briefly blue in confusion.

Why is zha laughing?

"Hoard? Yours?" Zha's voice is incredulous. "You think… you think I'm just some… some thing you can keep? There really is no escaping it, is there? Materialism exists everywhere."

I don't know how to respond to that. My skin flickers between purple and blue, a mix of irritation and confusion. "Yes," I say, because it's the only thing that makes sense to me. "Mine. Now."

Zha throws zha's hands in the air in some odd gesture I assume is defiance. "You're unbelievable,” zha says loudly, then more softly, “two is not one. Cannot be reformed. ”

Then zha goes back to drawing, dismissing me entirely, still muttering what I’m starting to suspect wouldn’t make sense to others of zha’s kind, let alone someone still figuring out zha’s language.

I feel a sting, like a slap to my pride. Purple flares briefly along my arms. "Unbelievable… why?"

My skin shudders at the low growl that erupts from zha.

"Because you don't get it!" Zha shakes zha's head, that green hair flashing in the dim light. "I'm not… I'm not some object . I'm not something you can just… claim ."

I narrow my eyes, trying to understand. "But… you green. You… signal?"

"What?" Zha blinks at me. "What does that even mean?"

I hesitate, feeling awkward. "Green… for mate?"

There's a pause. Then zha's eyes widen, and zha lets out another burst of laughter. "Oh. Oh, no. You think… you think this means I want to…"

I don't understand why this is funny. I feel a flush of light blue creeping along my skin, my spikes shuddering in embarrassment. "Is not. Thought not, but ask."

Why did I ask? My skin flushes to purple as I berate myself for being stupid.

"No!" zha exclaims. "This is just… how I look. Not how I used to look, but how I do now.”

I feel an odd mix of relief and irritation. So zha isn't signaling for a mate. But then… what does that mean? My mind races, trying to piece it all together. "Then… why… angry?"

"Because you took me!" Zha's voice is sharp again. "You took me from the person I was with you overgrown LED bulb !" I get the sinking sensation that if I were to come any closer then zha would do something drastic, perhaps sticking a finger into an eye, and the mental image roots me to the spot, unwilling to test the theory by coming any closer.

The creature's enchanting green eyes look positively murderous as zha finishes zha’s tirade, "And now you're acting like it's not a problem. What the fuck ?!"

I flinch at zha's tone, the sound grating against my senses. I'm overwhelmed, and I don't know how to respond. Should I try to explain again? Should I just… let zha be? I consider making zha sleep, just for a little while, just to give myself time to think. But no. Not yet.

Instead, I turn away again, retreating farther into the cave, letting the shadows swallow me up. I need a moment to think. To breathe. This is more complicated than I expected, and I'm not sure what to do next.

Behind me, zha's voice continues, echoing off the cave walls. But I don't listen. I doubt I have the fortitude. For a creature so tiny, zha’s voice is raised to the point of pain in my ears when zha yells.

I need to figure this out. What do I do with zha? What do I want?

For now, all I can do is wait and see.